They've Forgiven My Mistakes
by booknerd162
Summary: Looking at the scene made him think back to a time around 20 years ago when he was with his best friends and his girl, laughing and spending time knowing that they'd be best friends for the rest of their lives... Oh, how irony was tempting him. *SEQUEL TO COMING HOME*!


**So here it is! The sequel to "Coming Home!" I got to tell you, I was feeling a bit conflicted on writing one but here it is! Sorry that it taken so long. I should've posted yesterday but I dislocated my kneecap and it's now in a cast and I'm on strict bed rest. **

**But enough about me! Thank you to my beta, Ava Miranda Dakedavra for fixing it up! And I hope you guys love it!  
**

**I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**ENJOY! :)**

Okay, now he was going to lose it.

He stared at her, two rows back, behind the seat where the famous Harry Potter sat, his emerald eyes glazed over as he doodled on a spare piece of parchment, something most definitely on his mind. Looking at the scene made him think back to a time around 20 years ago when he was with his best friends and his girl, laughing and spending time knowing that they'd be best friends for the rest of their lives….

Oh, how irony was tempting him.

He cleared his throat, "Now, as you could tell from our first lesson, Boggarts are not a thing to be tampered with. Most people, at the sight of their deepest fear, will be paralyzed in shock. Many people have been driven insane at the sight of their fear because a fear could be a simple thing like a fear of spiders-" (At this, the red-headed boy sitting next to her, Ron Weasley shuddered) "-or a fear of the dark. But for many of those, their fears can be even more horrifying. Who can name a few people that might have these most horrifying dreams?"

Immediately, a small pale hand rose up and his eyes (once again) fell to the small bushy haired girl tottering at the edge of her seat with her hand raised up, cheeks flush pink, the seat was tottering underneath her. Her eyes were begging to be called on, begging to be proven right.

"Yes Ms…." He didn't want to say her name.

"Hermione Granger, sir." She replied, her tone a bit bossy as held her nose up high (something he found endearing) and her shoulders up in perfect posture, "Aurors are the most common people to have suffered such terrible fears. They have been fighting with dark wizards and such. They therefore should have the most horrible fears."

"Ah, Ms. Granger, what a logical answer. Heard it from your defense textbook, am I wrong?"

She shook her head no, her face expressing confusion, her eyebrows furrowed, her pink lip pouted. Remus had to internally slap himself, _STOP IT, you pervert_!_ She might not even be her… _He shook it off, not wanting it to enter his mind. "That book was one of my favorite ones to read when I was in school. But, these textbooks haven't been given the right answer." He answered, his crystal blue eyes meeting hers.

Her stare was piercing, her brown orbs reflecting the sorrow and the sadness and she clenched her fists tight as mumbles and snickers went around the classroom, astonished as _the _Hermione Granger failed to get a question right.

Remus continued, "You are, though, half-correct; but as you don't know, many Aurors soon grow out of these fears, learning how to adapt to them and conquer them though I can assure you some of them haven't. In actuality, those people who have been victims of terrible happenings will have the most paralyzing fears. People who have been through war or who lost someone because of war. Who has been in war themselves-"

"Yes, but – sir," Hermione interrupted, "Those are the Aurors, though. The Aurors have been faced with war. They are the ones that fought and they-"

"They couldn't have won without seeking help. Hermione, there are people who are in their early twenties, just fresh off of school fighting in the first war with You-Know-Who because they want to fight against what is wrong and what is right."

"That's barbaric!" Hermione, interrupted yet again, her face growing redder and redder with every sentence. The determination to prove her point growing stronger, "That is not their fight-"

"Well of course it is!" He shouted back, anger inflaming as well, "They are fighting for their lives. For what they believed in Ms. Granger as you can see, there are tons of people there who are still hurting and I'm taking 10 points off of Gryffindor for not believing in the common sense!"

There were gasps and as soon as those words left out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it. Glares were aimed at Hermione. Whispers were heard throughout the room, "What a bloody know-it-all"

"She should've kept her mouth shut."

"How can she? It's like a motor."

"How _do _Ron and Harry put up with her?"

Ron and Harry themselves were glaring at her and fidgeting in their seats. He frowned at the two before turning to the girl and his heart bled.

Tears were leaving tracks all over her pale face. Her bushy hair was even bushier, her fists were still clenched and her lip trembled at the glares and the jeers. But, her head was still up high and her posture was still straight. Her eyes were still piercing him and she hastily wiped the tears off of her face.

"Class dismissed," he mumbled, "No homework."

She was the first one to leave.

As he looked back at the empty classroom. He walked over to where she sat. The table was still damp with her tears. She'd forgotten her quill and as he sniffed the air, his senses heightened.

Clove, warm and nutty. Pumpkin pie with lots of cinnamon. And the smell of the flowery scent of her shampoo. There was only one person who smelled that smell. _Only one_.

"Hermione?" He whispered to the empty seat. The wolf in him seemed to nod in consent and his hand fell to the locket. He opened it and it fell to the pair of them dancing in the autumn leaves. The younger Remus bent down to give Hermione a kiss and she smiled into it as she replied back. He then twirled her away and brought her back, her snuggling into him as their hair whipped around them in the breeze. His heart ached for her.

It was then and there that he realized three things.

Firstly, his ex-girlfriend was a time traveler.

Secondly, she was fourteen and he was her Defense against the Dark Arts teacher.

Thirdly, he was still uncontrollably in love with her and he made her cry.

He returned to his desk and slammed his head against the table, groaning in frustration.

Oh Bugger.

**So... as you can see, this isn't the ending you guys were looking for. WAIT! WAIT! I HAVE MY REASONS! HOLD YOUR FIRE! So, I had different ideas going on in my head and when I finally wrote it, I left it hanging, like... maybe I can continue it? What do you guys think?**

**And guys, please review! They make my day a whole lot better (without this cast itching... Do it for the poor dislocated kneecap?) And, I'm on bed rest which means, more writing! Thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorite and followed and alerting "Coming Home". I love you all!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! :) **

**-Booknerd**


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